Listen Instead of Look
by DrawingMidnight
Summary: Wandering the Paris streets at night after his devastating rejection and being forced out of his home, Erik, is heartbroken. A small girl walking home hears the sobs. What happens?


**A/N Hey everyone! It's me! Anyway, I've made this little story cause for a while now I've been obsessed with Phantom of the Opera! AHHHH ERIK! I feel so bad for him, sooooo I made this little story for him! Hope you like it! ~(0^)/**

 **Єиʝσу~!**

 _ **Edit: This is a reboot!**_

The quiet, light tapping of footsteps on the stone ground echoed throughout the dark ally. A small, hooded figure in a white cloak walked slowly, pausing with each footstep as they made their way down the alley. Two, light blonde braids tumbled out of the hood as the figure tripped on some uneven cobblestone. The small form of the girl sighed and continued walking, gently trailing a small, soft, pale hand along the rough surface of the building. Her hand came to the end of the wall and gripped the corner. Swiftly turning left, she continued her slow paced walk down the lamp lit street. A drop of cold water hitting her nose startled her, causing her to falter in her precise steps. And then another drop hit her head and then another to her left and another on her fingers. Soon the loud, rumble of rolling thunder called forth a downpour soaking the girl's white cloak so it hung and clung to her small form. She continued forward but paused hearing something through the loud, heavy rainfall. A soft sob coming from behind her caught her attention. Curious, she timidly shuffled to the source of the crying. When she reached the muffled sobs she bent down and reached her hand out toward the person. "Are you okay monsieur?"

* * *

With a shattered heart and no destination in mind, Erik, once known as the terrifying phantom, crumpled to the ground. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as hoarse sobs wracked his body. He clutched the plain, gold band that Christine had given back to him in the palm of his hand.

' _In the end she was too pure…'_ he thought to himself as he wept, longing for his precious Christine. He had loved her with all his heart and soul... she was his inspiration for music and his meaning for living— his muse. The one person who had ever shown him love, and yet he knew that in the end she would slip right through his fingers. To go live a happy life, away from the darkness— and from him. More tears rolled down his cheeks.

' _Is there really any meaning to live now? To make music? My whole entire world has come crashing down, yet I feel so content just because of that one kiss… However, I feel so much emptier than before, as if the dull ache in my heart that I have carried with me throughout the years has only grown heavier_.' Erik held the ring tighter to his chest, thinking about his beloved Christine.

Night had fallen on the streets of Paris. Not a single soul walked along the cobblestone paths under the lamp lit walkways. Luck was on Erik's side for he had left his treasured mask in his underground lair— well it wasn't really his anymore. He had just dared to be someone like everyone else. Dared to dream and come out of hiding, but society had had other plans from him. His face was the only reason for rejection everywhere, for if he had a normal face he would have become something much more. He could have been an extraordinary person who would have gone down in history. His heart held so much love, but Christine was the only one who returned it, in the end. A splash of water hit the ground in front of Erik, mixing with his salty tears. Another drop of water hit his head, until the soothing pitter-patter of the heavy rain filled Erik's ears and the streets of Paris. Too busy wallowing in his depression and heartache; Erik had not noticed the approaching figure of a girl.

"Are you okay monsieur?" He heard a voice call to him. The voice was soft, sweet, and sounded like the voice of small child. It was almost angelic. Even so, it still startled Erik out of his thoughts as he looked up to see a small girl in a baggy, soaked, white cloak. Her tiny, pale hand reached out to him, asking him to take it. It was then that Erik realized he had not mask on. Fear, dread, and even more sadness coursed through his veins as he readied himself for the repulse of the child. It did not come. Instead, the girl squatted down to his level and looked at him— well kind of at the wall. This startled Erik even more than when this strange child appeared.

'Why isn't she screaming or recoiling in disgust?' He thought to himself, studying the odd girl. That's when he notice the long, way, choppy bangs covering her eyes, and how the hood of the cloak cast a dark shadow over half of her face. Erik started to think through all the possible reasons for this when the voice of the girl sounded in its soft, airy tone.

"Monsieur why were you crying?" This snapped Erik out of his thoughts as he focused on what the girl had asked.

"I have lost something that I love dearly," he answered with an empty voice, silent tears escaping his vacant eyes. The little girl's face melted into sympathy. She reached out her hand again and this time, he took it. All of a sudden, she moved forward and embraced the stranger with her small arms. Erik stiffened, shocked by the girl's actions. His arms trembled as he hesitantly hugged the small girl back. He broke down. Sobs wracked his entire frame as he held tightly onto the little girl. She soothingly rubbed and patted his back while the relentless rain poured down on them. They seemed to stay like that for hours in silence despite the pitter-patter of the cold rain. Once Erik's sobs turned into whimpers, no energy or tears left to be shed, the girl broke the silence and abruptly said,

"I must get going now, Father will be worried." She stood up to go, breaking out of Erik's arms. Just as she was about to walk away, Erik grabbed hold of one of her wrists. She turned around with a questioning look.

"Petite fille at least let me escort you home. It's dangerous for you to be walking around late at night, especially since it is raining as well," Erik blurted looking the girl in the eyes. She nodded, taking his hand in her own. Silently, they made their way down the streets of Paris.

They didn't even know each other's name.

Petit fille- little girl

Monsieur- mister

 **A/N Hoped you enjoyed this reboot! :3 I will post every month or so because of school and or writers block ^^; Thank you for reading~ 3**


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